on the contrary, was smiling broadly, and was quite evidently enjoying his rival's discomfiture.
"I shall give it to you, because you look so pleasant," declared Madeleine, handing the cup to Tom. "Now, Schuyler, smile prettily and you may have one, too."
But Carleton would not fall in with her light mood.
Bending a little, he said in a tense voice, "I will leave you to your cousin now. Tomorrow I shall assert my claim."
Though not rude in themselves, the words were accompanied by a harsh and disdainful glance that made several of the onlookers wonder what sort of a life the haughty Madeleine would lead with such a coldly tyrannical husband.
"The brute!" said Tom, under his breath, as Carleton left the room. "Never mind, Maddy, the old Turk has left you to me for this evening, and we'll take him at his word."
Suddenly Madeleine's mood changed to one of utter gaiety. She smiled impartially on all, she jested with the girls, she bewitched the young men with her merry banter, and she almost seemed to be flirting with Tom Willard. But he was her cousin, after all, and much is forgiven a bride-to-be on her wedding eve.
Robert Fessenden looked at Miss Van Norman with a puzzled air. He couldn't seem to understand her, and was glad when by chance the two were left comparatively alone for a few moments' conversation.
"A great responsibility devolves on the best man, Miss Van Norman," he said, in response to a chaffing remark of hers. "I suppose that tomorrow I shall be general director-in-chief, and if anything should go wrong, I shall be blamed."
"But nothing will go wrong," said Madeleine, gaily, "and then, think how you'll be praised!"
"Ah, but you won't be here to hear the praise heaped upon me, so what's the use?"
"No, I shall be gone forever," said Madeleine, putting on one of her faraway looks. "I never want to come back to Mapleton. I hate it!"
"Why, Miss Van Norman! You want to desert this beautiful old house? Schuyler can never find you a home so comfortable and attractive in every way."
"I don't care. I want to go far away from Mapleton to live. We're going to travel for a year, any way, but when we do settle down, it will be abroad, I hope."
"You surprise me. Schuyler didn't tell me this. We've been chums so long, that I usually know of his plans. But, of course, getting married changes all that."
"You're a very intimate friend of Mr. Carleton's, aren't you?" said Madeleine, with a strange note of wistfulness in her voice.
"Yes, I am. Why?"
"Oh, nothing; I only thought—I mean, do you think—"
Rob Fessenden was thrilled by the plaintive expression on the beautiful face, and suddenly felt a great desire to help this girl, who was seemingly so far above and beyond all need of help, and yet was surely about to ask his aid, or at least his sympathy.
"Don't hesitate," he said gently; "what is it, Miss Van Norman? I want to be as firm a friend of yours as I am of Schuyler's, so please say what you wish to."
"I can't—I can't," Madeleine whispered, and her voice was almost a moan.
"Please," again urged Fessenden.
"Do you know Dorothy Burt?" Madeleine then broke out, as if the words were fairly forced from her.
"No," said Fessenden, amazed; "I never heard the name before. Who is she?"
"Hush! She's nobody—less than nobody. Don't mention her to me ever again—nor to any one else. Ah, here comes Miss Morton."
As Fessenden watched Madeleine, she changed swiftly from a perturbed, troubled girl to a courteous, polished hostess.
"My dear Miss Morton," she said, advancing to meet her newest guest, "how kind of you to come to me at this time."
"I didn't come exactly out of kindness," said Miss Morton, "but because I desired to come. I hope you are quite well. Will you give me some tea?"
Miss Morton was a tall, angular lady, with gray hair and sharp, black eyes. She seemed to bite off her words at the ends of her short sentences, and had a brisk, alert manner that was, in a way, aggressive.
"An eccentric," Rob Fessenden thought, as he looked at her, and wondered why she was there at all.
"An old sweetheart of Mr. Richard Van Norman, I believe," said Kitty French, when he questioned her. "They were once engaged and then quarrelled and broke it off, and neither of them lived happily ever after."
"As the Carletons will," said Fessenden, smiling.
"Yes," said Kitty slowly, "as the Carletons will—I hope. You know Mr. Carleton awfully well, don't you? Are you sure he will make our Maddy happy, Mr. Fessenden?"
"I think so;" and Fessenden tried to speak casually. "He is not an emotional man, or one greatly given to sentiment, but I judge she is not that sort either."
"Oh, yes, she is! Maddy is apparently cold and cynical, but she isn't really so a bit. But she perfectly adores him, and if they're not happy, it won't be her fault."
"Nor will it be his," said Fessenden, warmly defending his absent friend. "Carleton's an old trump. There's no finer man in the world, and any woman ought to be happy with him."
"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Kitty, with a little sigh of relief. "Do look at that funny Miss Morton! She seems to be scolding Madeleine. I'm sorry she came. She doesn't seem very attractive. But perhaps it's because she was crossed in love and it made her queer."
"Or she was queered in love and it made her cross," laughed Fessenden. "Well, I must go, now, and look up Carleton. Poor old boy, he was a little miffed when he went away."
After tea all the callers departed, and those who were house guests went to their rooms to dress for dinner.
Tom Willard, with great show of burlesque regret and tearful farewells, went to the hotel, that Miss Morton might have the room he had been occupying.
He promised to return for dinner, and gaily blew kisses to Madeleine as with his traps he was driven down the avenue.
At dinner, Schuyler Carleton's place was vacant. It had been arranged next to Madeleine's, and when fifteen minutes after the dinner hour he had not arrived, she haughtily accepted Tom Willard's arm and led the way to the dining-room.
But having reached the table, she directed Tom to take his rightful seat, at some distance from her own, and Carleton's chair remained empty at Madeleine's side.
At first this was uncomfortably evident, but Madeleine was in gay spirits, and soon the whole party followed her lead, and the conversation was general and in a merry key.
The young hostess had never looked more regally beautiful. Her dark hair, piled high on her head, was adorned with a dainty ornament which, though only a twisted ribbon, was shaped like a crown, and gave her the effect of an imperious queen. Her low-cut gown of pale yellow satin was severe of line and accented her stately bearing, while her exquisitely modelled neck and shoulders were as white and pure as those of a marble
